Slightly Broken
by I'mWishingforaStarRod
Summary: Did they really mean all those hurtful comments? Am I just a joke? I used to think everybody had at least a little good in their hearts. But I'm not so sure anymore. A surprisingly deep hurt/comfort fic about hurtful words and loyal family.


I don't get it.

I thought I was being funny. I thought people liked to hear what I had to say.

Sure, I could be a little silly sometimes, but I thought people liked it.

But whatever I did, somebody always said something mean to me about it. How I wasn't following rules. How I could get banned from schools or from public speaking.

I used to think that was all baloney. I didn't care what others thought of me or my thoughts. They were my thoughts, and mine alone.

This is a free country! I live in the United States! I have my rights!

But now I sit here, in a pink sweater that has holes and tear stains on the sleeves, staring out into the night.

Free speech my ass.

All I did was bend a few rules, make a grammar mistake or two, or quote lines from my brother's favorite song. I told wonders from my imagination, mysteries from my summer with my great uncle, filmed a huge truth or dare series for people on the internet to watch, read, and to know who we are.

I was optimistic about how it would turn out.

I was optimistic about everything then.

Then the comments came. Disgusting words, horrible threats, insults towards me, my family, all my friends and fans. I was shocked to hear words like that coming from another human being's mouth.

I was told again and again that I was stupid, a dumbass, a poor excuse for a human being, and that my family was a joke and so was I.

When my brother and my great uncle heard, my brother gasped and tears welled in his soft brown eyes. My uncle rolled up the sleeves of his snappy suit coat and said that whoever crossed the Pines family next was going to get a left hook in the face.

But the comments and insults kept on coming.

I was truly, utterly hurt.

I used to think everybody had at least a little good in their hearts.

But I'm not so sure anymore.

I stared out at the stars, watching a meteor or two fly past me. I was beginning to feel numb with the cold night air and all, but I didn't care.

No, that's not right.

I sat on the edge of the roof of my uncle's house, not really looking at the stars, feeling numb with hurt and sadness.

A trapdoor near me opened, and my great uncle climbed out. "Damn..." He muttered, stretching. "I'm getting old..."

He sat down and turned towards me, his brown eyes staring into mine. "Mabel, I-" he started, and tried to splutter out more. He shook his head. "I'm really bad at this..."

He tried again. "It's those comments again, isn't it? Look me in the eye, Mabel!"

I turned my head and closed my eyes. I didn't want him to see me crying. "I'm fine, Grunkle Stan."

"No, you're not."

He sighed, and removed his crimson fez. He ran his fingers through his usually neat hair, and tried to get me to turn my head.

"Mabel, I knew what you're going through. No, don't give me that look, I do."

I gave a smile I didn't feel. "How can you? The Internet wasn't invented when you were a kid. Listen Grunkle Stan, I just want to be alone." I turned away.

Grunkle Stan sighed again. "I was bullied when I was your age. Constantly. I got a lot of insults hurled at me too. All because I tried to protect...someone...from getting bullied himself. My glasses were always broken and I stumbled into stuff a lot."

Sharply, I turned around. I hadn't heard about that. "Really? Who was the person?"

"A friend, I guess..." Grunkle Stan put a hand in the inside pocket of his jacket, and I saw the shape of something that looked kind of like a pair of glasses...

My great uncle waved it off. "But hey. Mabel, don't let them get to you. They're complete strangers. Don't let them control your messed up mind, ok?

Just know that I've always got your back. So does Dipper. And Soos. And Wendy. And your friends. You know, the fangirls. But Dipper and me will always be there for you, ok?"

If Dipper were here, he'd probably say "Dipper and I, Grunkle Stan." But I smiled. I didn't want to think about grammar.

Standing up, I hugged my great uncle. "Thanks, Grunkle Stan."

He was a little shocked at first, then returned the hug. "Listen," he said after a short pause, "to save my dignity and tough-guy ness, can we not mention the touchy-feely parts of the conversation?"

I smiled, braces glinting in the pale moonlight. "Sure. Now can we get down from here? Im scared one of us is going to fall off."

"I hadn't thought about that...if your brother or Soos comes with a ladder, I swear to God I will scream and punch something breakable."

I smiled, and opened the trapdoor.

I used to think everybody had at least a little good in their heart.

And you know what?

I think I was right after all.

**This is for every soul in the world that was bullied, called names, pushed, punched, talked about behind their back, flamed, moderated, or hurt.**

**You guys are like my second family. Every single one of you matters to me.**

**Every single one of you.**

**We are a family; a big one. A crazy one. We need to stand up for one another when we're hurt or in need of help. So, if you ever see someone getting hurt on Fanfiction, on social media, or even (le gasp) real life, be a Grunkle Stan.**

**Fave this story if you pledge to s****tand up for your family.**

**...**

**Who was the boy Stanford protected when he was a kid? The kid he would get punched and bullied for?**

**Let's just say he owned those glasses in Stanford's pocket.**

**Happy holidays, you guys. **

**-StarRod**


End file.
